


The art of destruction

by Ejostra



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Cabeswater - Freeform, Car Accident, Dream theives, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Suicide Attempt, bad language, car racing, chainsaw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-05-28 05:17:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6316144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ejostra/pseuds/Ejostra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A one and half minute later he jumped on his breaks so fast, the car tossed him on the wheel. Kavinski slowly got out of the doors and stood up, watching the black BMW absurdly on its roof as it lied calmly in the field beside the road.<br/>“What the hell, Lynch…”<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jing and Jang

**"AUDENTIS FORTUNA IUVAT"**  
**"Fortune favors the brave"**  
**\- Virgil -**

 

Ronan Lynch was a crazy motherfucker.  
He never lied.

Wasn´t that crazy enough in this world full of dishonest people? Never to lie to anyone, not even when you´re in the trouble? One would say no. No, it wasn´t. But then there was a creature like Ronan Lynch, boy who hated almost every person he´d ever met, the boy skipping classes, drinking, drugging, car racing with the mouth full of disrespectful, ironic shits for everyone who would dared to talk to him.

This boy really thought that from those all horrible things forming his character, the craziest one was his odd need to tell the truth in every situation. It had one specific and interesting aftermath – he couldn´t lie even to himself.  
So when he´d once heard Gansey saying Blue: “Hey, he isn´t that bad, really. He´s just… damaged,” he knew this wasn´t the exact way of how he would describe his situation. More like fucked up in the head would suit.

As much as he remembered, since that time, things have got better. He found out about his father, quite coped with the fact. He had his friends, who cared, if he would shoot his brain out or not. He had Chainsaw. He had the forest with a strange girl and whispering trees, calling him Greywaren, soothing his mind every time he entered that dreamland, challenging him to fix his life.

However, no matter how good things were, the presence and necessity of destruction were always there. It wasn´t just about being damaged. It was more about being him. This filth was the part of him, sometimes pushed aside, sometimes pushed up on the surface.  
The Cabeswater never wanted his Greywaren to really change and neither wanted Ronan. He realized that it wanted him to embrace his identity instead, with some limits settled, like the jing and jang. Save what you´re made of, but don´t let it destroy you.  
But, this was Ronan Lynch.

And he was crazy.

“Hey, Lynch… Dick let you out tonight for a good behavior?” the spicy, poisonous voice of Joseph Kavinski made his way through the window of the BMW as a magnificent ending to a screaming of his Mitsubishi´s engine ready to stop beside Ronan´s car.  
They were all alone in the street. The green light glowing in the dark in front of them. No one was moving though.  
“What? Not talking to me?”  
Ronan stayed quiet again, his hands tightly holding the driving wheel to help him concentrate.  
“Hey, don´t be a bitch, Lynch. I know, you miss me. Why weren´t you answering my texts?”  
His eyes quickly moved to his mobile lying on the passenger seat. Broken.  
“Phone´s a mess,” he said not moving his face from the light in front of him. RED.  
“I think it has something to do with you needing an anger management therapist, fuckhead…” He heard him searching for something in his Mitsubishi. “I have a present for you, Lynch.”  
Ronan got one for him too, in his room. What a stupid game…  
“But you will get it after the race.”

This time Ronan moved to look him in the eyes. Eyes full of excitement and dark passion.  
“Tonight you don´t have to just win, if you want…” he started to explain his conditions to gain the present, which were temporarily changing time to time, when they raced.  
Ronan waited for him to continue, meanwhile the light changed to GREEN again. However nothing more was coming and Kavinski stopped in the middle of the sentence.  
“Lynch,” he got Ronan´s attention back, “you´re fucking drunk.”  
They were looking at each other with Kavinski´s eyes widened like he couldn´t believe the words, he just slipped out.  
“What a genius you are,” Ronan answered too quickly for not messing up his answer. He didn´t even understand himself, but obviously Kavinski did or he wasn´t interested in the answer in the first place.

“Jesus fucking Christ… You don´t drive drunk, fucker.”  
Was he angry? Why was he fucking angry?  
“Everything… is once a first time,” Ronan breathed out in the one exhale recognizing Kavinski´s lecture not as a traffic explanation of how you should act on the road, but rather like a question on the sudden change of Ronan´s principles. Still he couldn´t explain something he didn´t understand.  
“You always drive high… or drunk.”  
“Yes, but I´m used to it, Lynch.”  
“I always win.”  
“So?”  
“So now,” Ronan addressed him a smile, he would never give sober, “you have a real chance against me.”

They held their gazes on each other and it felt like supernova flying somewhere near. Damn vodka.  
“You have a death wish?”  
Kavinski didn´t mind him not answering, he relaxed, smiled as well, but in more vicious way. It was the smile saying: I´m ready for whatever disaster you are.  
They both turned to the lights.  
RED.

Ronan grabbed the leather harder making the metal construction under his hands scream in the protest.  
Concentrate.  
Breath.  
It´s an empty road.  
You´re good.  
He felt the engine shaking the car and finally the dose of adrenaline was injected right into his veins as he stole a one quick moment to look on the same determined person on the other side of the road. The familiar feeling kept burning his brain down… slowly, peacefully… in the way that soon after there was nothing around, only the cold asphalt, him and the car. Just how it should be. Nothing to distract him. Nothing to worry about. It was an art…

An almost inhuman sound cut the air as the two cars moved forward in the exact same moment. It was an natural instinct for Ronan´s hands to find their place, his feet pressing the speed behind any possible limits.  
The world around disappeared in a one big smear.

And he was winning.  
After few minutes the Mitsubishi was angrily growling in Ronan´s rearview mirror with Kavinski´s face hidden in the dark. Ronan found himself looking in that damn mirror more than he actually should just to recognize the expression on the face of the other driver.  
He got his attention back on the road. But fuck, there was something wrong. Something messing up with his concentration.

What an awful music is playing in his damn car?  
That´s not what he listens to.

Ronan knew well enough that the biggest mistake he could probably do was to take of his hand from the wheel and reach for the button, but he still did it maybe just because he knew it was such a stupid thing.  
As he finally stopped to fight with his radio, he looked up on the road again. How much time could it take him? Few seconds?  
The second car on his right side said it all pretty clear. Even those few second he lost was a chance for Kavinski to show all he got under the hood of his white devil. Ronan didn´t think he was driving any slower, Kavinski clearly hadn´t do his best till now.

They both took few turns side by side, no car getting in front to lead. The road got once more straight and both drivers speeded even more.  
Ronan was back on the stage, leaving the Mitsubishi jumping for his tail like a cat for its woolen ball.

Everything behind the windows got blurred again. Ronan looked in the mirror. This time he saw Kavinski´s face illuminated in the street lights and it all appeared somehow magical. The car, the face, him…  
Ronan put his feet of the gas pedal. A moment later the other car got ahead of the BMW and it kept running wild into the night like a predator getting free from its capture.

Surprisingly no feelings were awoken as Ronan was watching the scene in front of him. He slowed down only for a half a minute and then he hit the gas one last time, almost taking the car in the air like a fucking helicopter.  
There was no sign after Kavinski, only the endless road, dark and mysterious calling for him.

Ronan took a big breath and closed his eyes. He let his hands slipped from the steering wheel.

 

***

The car stopped in the middle of the lonely road with the engine hungrily running and driver triumphantly looking in the back mirror.  
Joseph Kavinski wear a smile across his face. He was happy.  
But he was also restless with his fingers drumming on the top of the driving wheel. There was no one and nothing to celebrate his victory.  
“Well, well, someone doesn´t know how to lose like a man, right?”  
He put the phone out of his jean´s pocket and typed a short message. He kept smirking above the screen weakly illuminating the inside of the dark car. Suddenly this very smile wiped down from his face.

No message returned back, but he realized something horrible instead. This whole race was too fucking easy. People don´t beat Ronan Lynch that easily.

Kavinski grabbed a gear shift and turned around with a nasty sound of wheels slipping on the asphalt. He hit the pedal with gritted teeth.  
A one and half minute later he jumped on his breaks so fast, the car tossed him on the wheel reminding a kick of the spring. He slowly got out of the doors and stood up, watching the black BMW absurdly on its roof as it lied calmly in the field beside the road.

“What the hell, Lynch…”  
He would never admit that something in his chest kept clenching as he made the first step towards the desolated vehicle.


	2. Vino

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you can save someone´s life and you saves yours too. Would you try?

**"IN VINO VERITAS"**   
**"The truth is in the wine"**

 

Ronan was in the forest.  
He found himself standing in the middle of the tree maze, the place sacredly still and quiet. It seemed darker around than usual with the trees moving in the light breeze towards him.  
“Greywaren.”

The girl appeared from nowhere right in front of Ronan making him step back from the sudden surprise. He greeted her back in latin as usual. The familiarity of the situation made him feel warm inside.  
“Greywaren,” she said again and this time he noticed the sadness in her watery eyes.  
“Why are you crying?” He came closer, waiting for the answer. It felt strangely bad to see her like this.  
“What are you doing, Greywaren?”  
Ronan didn´t understand. “What am I doing?” he asked back, the old language fluently slipping from his tongue.

She said nothing more, only watched him desperately.  
“What…” and then he remembered.  
He saw himself sitting in the car, driving. And the car turning over three times before it landed on its roof in the field with him in the driving seat.  
Ronan´s body trembled, when he opened his mouth. “Am I dead?”  
“No.”  
He relaxed a little, grabbing the girl spontaneously by her hand. He had never done that before, simply because the physical contact seemed to be forbidden in the land of dreaming.  
“I´m good.” He felt the urge to comfort her he couldn´t explain.  
She looked back at him with a sad smile: “You´re not, Greywaren.” She put something to his open palm. “But you live. You have to live.”

Ronan watched her as she was slowly leaving deeper to the forest, then his eyes went back to his hand.  
There was a small knife glistening in the dark.

***

The white Mitsubshi was left empty on the road and Joseph Kavinski approached the edge, where the relief lowered slightly towards the field. He passed the tracks of the destroyed BMW tossing around and shaking his head, he got to the driver´s side expecting Lynch hanging in there, cursing every god he remembered.  
Instead he found an open door and the grass trampled down by the crawling body, which lay only few meters away at the beginning of another small hill. Body unmoving on the place, where would anyone after the crash like this stopped, not trying to climb further. He would never admit to anyone that his heart skipped a beat at the sight.

Kavinski kneeled beside Ronan, turning him on his damn back, pretty much ignoring his hands shaking while doing so.  
“What the hell, you fuck. Don´t play dead on me. Open your eyes!”  
He noticed the red mark in Ronan´s hair and drops of blood dripping down on his cheek. It strangely made him feel nauseous and sent a warning message to his brain in the same second.  
“Look, Lynch, I´m not playing with you…” he went for his pulse – it was there, thank god, “I´m going to hit you, if you won´t fucking wake up …”  
He shook him by his shoulders, noticing another cut only much deeper on his right hand. Instantly there was his T-shirt pressing on the wound.  
“Hey, fuckhead…” He sighed.

Just as he was about to rise his hand, Ronan´s eyes sprung open like in a really twisted up fairy tail, where the princess dramatically wakes up in the exact last possible moment before the tower gets crushed down on her head.  
Kavinski stayed looking down at the disoriented face with a still fist in the air. He almost expected something like: Who are you? Who am I? – question according to the expression of his involuntary patient.  
“You… really,” Ronan coughed, but continued with rough throat, “wante´ to punch me?”  
Hearing the words or response in general made the other boy relax, even smirk, showing his perfect white teeth.  
“What do you expect from me? I´m not a damn medic,” he frowned.  
“You ´ren´t supposed to wake peopl´ up by punchin em´.”  
“Said the one who rode his car into the fucking corn.”

Ronan´s stare was hazy, not really focusing on anything and the T-shirt under Kavinski´s hand got quickly soaked. He waited till the boy collected himself a little, but actually he didn´t want to waste more time than necessary. He could already hear police sirens in his head.  
“Got anything broken?”  
He cleared his throat before his negative answer.  
“Can you use everything your dear God gave you? Except of your brain, of course.”  
Ronan cursed, but tried to move with his limbs, which Kavinski felt under his hands.  
“You deserve a lift after your stunt tonight.”  
“That would be nice,” Ronan fought with the shock and tiredness in his voice, “no ambulance for me?”  
The memory of the last conversation echoed in Kavinski´s ears.

“Jesus fucking Christ… You don´t drive drunk, fucker.”  
“Everything… is once a first time,” Ronan breathed out in the one exhale.“You always drive high… or drunk.”  
“Yes, but I´m used to it, Lynch.”  
“I always win.”  
“So?”  
“So now,” Ronan addressed him a smile, he would never give sober, “you have a real chance against me.”

He said that despite he knew it was impossible. They couldn´t let him in any doctor´s hand with an actual alcohol in his blood. “No. But I bet you need one. Come on.”

He helped to pick him up and leaded him towards his own car, leaving the wreck behind, but then he returned alone with vicious smile once more to take some photos of the “crime” scene to keep a nice memory.  
“You´re done?” He could see now, when he got back and started to kick the engine that angry look in Ronan´s eyes while he was staring at his beloved car through the front mirror. Still, he liked the angry one better than the half-dead.  
“We will dream you another one.” He turned the steering wheel to the side getting in the right direction. “The same one,” he corrected himself.

The most of the way they stayed quiet. They passed few cars, giving each other knowing look that they must get somewhere, where Ronan could sober up. Not hospital if it´s not dying-important. And then in one actual moment, Ronan suddenly woke up from his own head and looked around – distracted.  
“Where are we going?”  
Kavinski didn´t leave the sight of the road. “My place.”  
He wasn´t fighting about the matter. Sure he didn´t want to come home like this for his brothers to see. Few minutes later the car stopped in front of the old scary building.

Home sweet home.

“Here?” Ronan didn´t recognize the place, because he had never been there like in the other Joseph´s apartments. The both of them stepped inside of an empty flat, Kavinski staying few steps behind. Together they got into the room on the end of the small corridor. Even after the lights were on, it was still pretty dark. Kavinski was glad, he didn´t have much things in this room to stumble on while walking towards the bed in the corner.  
“You lay here.” Ronan stayed sitting maybe just as the act of rebellion while watching his host as he went away and came back with the almost empty first aid kid. He gave him a questioning look.  
“What? A lot of people are living here, we get scratches sometimes.” He began to rummage through the stuff, sitting down on the same eye level. The mattress sank a little under the double weight with Kavinski giving an order to “give me your hand” way too more lovely earning an eye-roll in return.  
“You didn´t have to kill yourself only to prove that you can´t accept me kicking your ass,” he said later on without moving his eyes from the wound. It didn´t need stitches. Or it did, but wouldn´t get from him anyway.  
“And by the way, it didn´t quite work as you had to notice.”

For some time Lynch stayed quiet, only barely shifting uncomfortably.  
“I didn´t want to kill myself,” he said finally, waiting until his hand will become full bandaged. At the same moment he looked like he would like to do it by himself, ungrateful asshole.  
“So what happened?” You didn´t want to drive over a stray cat?”  
“No.”  
Ronan didn´t seem like he planned to continue, but as Kavinski accidentally pressed on the wound, he quickly understood.  
“Fuck. What? I just let go of the steering wheel for a second for fuck´s sake.”

The other boy shook his head in disbelief. “It doesn´t sound so dangerous.”  
“I had my eyes closed too.”  
Oh.

“Well,” Kavinski let him take his hand back to examine his work after a minute or two of working on it, “it looks like suicide to me, no offense.”  
He said it despite that he didn´t really meant it. His eyes wandered towards Lynch´s wrist and bracelets. Automatically he saw the guy chewing in them in his head. He had done that often enough for Kavinski to know it was always a sign of stress and discomfort. Under the leather he hid the scars from the first time he´d accidently brought back his nightmare to the real world and coincidently it´d been the same time, when Kavinski had discovered he wasn´t the only dreamer out there.

It hadn´t surprised him back then that everyone else thought those horrible injuries had to been a suicidal attempt and they´ve taken Lynch for a flower since then.  
Only Kavinski knew the truth.  
Lynch wasn´t any flower, but he maybe was suicidal. No one else could understand better than him.

Suddenly he noticed a small knife clenched in Lynch´s other hand and he had to grin connecting the scene with his thoughts.  
“What´s that? Try number 2?”  
Ronan was also watching the weapon suspiciously, like he expected it will turn against him any second.  
“I got it from the forest.”  
“You stole it.”  
“The girl gave it to me,” Lynch corrected him.

Kavinski stiffened, but it seemed like the other boy didn´t notice.  
“You mean the same aggressive crazy girl, which is hunting me down while I´m there using ideas of some pretty bad horrors against me?”  
He said that despite these days it hadn´t been exactly like this. He´d often went to steal – nothing had changed about that, but the girl had seemed odd. If he didn´t know how the forest hated him, maybe he would believe she´d tried to help him find the things from time to time. She even stopped tracking him and freak him out so much.

He absurdly realized that tonight the reason why he was on the road in the first place was his latest dream. He had fucking seen it before. Lynch and him on the road just like that. Why he didn´t realize it before?  
It looked like he had it stuck in his head for a while.  
Kavinski remembered being unsettled the whole day. Something was pushing him. And he´d knew where to meet Ronan. But how?  
“What is the knife for?” he asked with a bad prediction on his mind.  
Ronan didn´t look back at him, when he said he´d cut the seatbelt with the thing and got out of the car.  
“You don´t wear a seatbelt. Never.”  
“I know.”  
Kavinski smiled bitterly shaking his head in a half amusement, half scary discovery.

He imagined Ronan putting his seatbelt on because of the racing, because he´d felt unsecure drunk driving. Because maybe he had had the same feeling just as Kavinski to do something he wouldn´t normally do.

 _That fucking forest saved you._ He smiled.  
_Because tonight you should have died, Ronan Lynch._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for every look on this little story. It´s my escape thing. Hope you liked it. The last chapter will contain some kissing - sorry I didn´t want to, but I can´t help myself. :) I would be very happy for any comment. Love. E.


	3. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last part of this 3-pieces relaxing stuff. Hope you liked it. :)

**"Vita non est vivere sed valere vita est."**   
**"There is more to life than merely living."**

 

He watched him sleep.  
Kavinski was watching Ronan Lynch sleep from the other side of the room for some time. He tried not to feel overwhelmed by this new experience of having the other boy in his bed and his sheets and his bandages. Looking all defenseless but in fact not being helpless at all. It was true, he didn´t like him so quiet and calm. Hell no.  
Kavinski loved fighting and screaming. He loved, when Lynch was an asshole, aggressive and full of life.  
He could so easily reached into the pocket of his jeans and pull out the pill, which would drag him to the other world just to see what was the idiot dreaming about.

Was it his wrecked car? Dick? Parrish? Was Kavinski ever in his dreams?

It was tempting to know. But this decision was already out of reach. Right now he was waiting for the thunder to start hitting and he was sure there would be a lot of rain pouring down on his head as the phone in his hand will give the first cloud to the storm in a few seconds.  
He knew it couldn´t last longer, because of the text messages he´s sent and the meaning of the single photo without any pointless words.

The simple ringtone of Dirty Dancing cut the silence in the room in half. Kavinski let it ring while Ronan turned on his side and blinked – his gaze slipping from Kavinski´s face to the phone and back slightly irritated.  
“I wondered who would call first. Dick, Parrish or your beloved brother.”  
Ronan frowned. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Kavinski showed him the phone´s screen with big lettered DICK in the middle.  
“What the fuck did you do?” Ronan jumped out of the bed with elegance and urgency to kill someone ripping the phone from Kavinski´s hand. He put it then next to his own ear like it was a snake ready to bite him.  
“Yes?”

Kavinski heard the really long released breath on the other side of the line and the flow of quick and harsh curses he would never expected to come out of the king Gansey III.  
“I´m fine. No. Sorry. No. Gansey. Yes. Tell him, I´m ok.”  
Kavisnki knew exactly when this one or two-words sentences conversation ended as he was right in that moment lifted from his chair and thrown against the wall with one angry hand gripping his neck.  
“Why?” Ronan screamed into his face. He laughed.  
“Don´t be so fragile, baby. They would find out sooner or later.”  
He saw the fist coming, but he didn´t move or tried to avoid it in any way. He wasn´t really afraid of being hit. He was afraid of Ronan forgetting how good it felt to hit. How red could be the blood on someone´s pale fingers or how the surprise actually hurt, when you returned the punch.

The both boys were standing in front of each other. There was pure aggression and excitement running through Kavinski´s veins and he would bet it was the same on the other side. It was quick and dirty. He got few punches, he gave few punches. Suddenly they were on the floor and Kavinski could feel Ronan´s body shifting beneath him, fighting for a control with everything he had. It felt too familiar for him to be concerned.

In one moment he lost it all and bent down to Lynch´s face.  
“Listen to me.” He wasn´t sure if he was whispering or screaming. “I can kill myself and I can kill you, you know why?”  
He met with his eyes. “I´m insane.” Kavinski gave his whole strength into pinning both of his hands down. “But you are not.”

He kissed him. Whatever.  
It was hard and brutal and warm and soft. It was nothing and everything. It stole his breath and ripped his organs out of his body.  
When he received another punch he only laughed. When he received another kiss he laughed even more.

“I hate you.”  
“Me too.”

Because this is how it always have been. Ronan Lynch couldn´t be possessed by anyone. He could be entertained and drugged and kissed and beaten. Kavinski couldn´t be never bored with him. He knew he had some special power over this extremely dangerous and beautiful creature and it made him crazy because he was the only one.

He was the devil who brought him to hell when he needed it and he was the god who leaded him away, when it started to get under his skin. And it was enough for him.  
This way he wasn´t angry or disappointed, when his friends wanted to take him away from him, when they appeared at his doorway cursing and grabbing Ronan by his good hand because the other one was even more bloody than before.

He wasn´t even angry, when Dick lost his cool and started to yell at him.  
“You always have to cause troubles, don´t you? What about you finally mind your own business and stay away from him?”  
“If he minded his own business I would be bleeding on the road, Gansey.”

Adam Parrish just stood behind them in silence. There was a big difference between the two of them. While he demanded Ronan would never do such a thing again, Kavinski just wanted to be a part of it, if this ever happen again.  
The worst thing they could probably do would be to tie him with rules he wasn´t able to follow. Because sometimes when you cut the wings off, you kill the animal.

“For you, Lynch.” He threw at him a small black packet. “Your trophy.”  
Kavinski watched how he squeezed the packet and a recognition appeared on his face.  
“4,” he said and turned away immediately without any further explanation.

Kavinski was once alone in his room looking for his mobile on the ground. He lay down on the bed looking at the screen and feeling two new pills resting against his palm. It was comfortably relaxing to know where he is going in his dreams and that tonight he isn´t going to steal anything than Ronan Lynch from this world to another.

He looked back at the screen and he reached to touch the alarm icon. He smiled.  
“4 am you said.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was a lot of darker and non-topic than I originally planned. I have to admit that I got lost in what I wanted to say with this story, maybe just how the world isn´t always white and black and sometimes you don´t need a happy ending to know that things are how they are supposed to be. I hope you liked it at least a little. Thank you for kudos! :P 
> 
> I would love if you let met any review on this last chapter. Maybe it could help me to recognize my own feelings and impression from this story. Thank you! :*
> 
> PS: If you are interested in Black Dagger Brotherhood, don´t forget to check my other story here! Love. E.


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